


Finding the same page

by Craftybadger1234



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, Pining Harry, Possessive Behavior, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 12:25:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12681864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Craftybadger1234/pseuds/Craftybadger1234
Summary: Pining!Harry tries to get oblivious!Draco to notice him. When the obvious doesn't work, he schemes for a fake relationship, which becomes a real relationship, and sometimes I don't know when to stop writing.Or - Draco looks like a playboy, but really he's a workaholic. Potter looks boring, but really he's wishing he was a playboy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *babbling nervously * I divided this into two chapters because it was originally going to end at chapter one but then I couldn't stop writing and I'm not sure the second part is as good as the first but I'm including it anyway because that's how I roll.

Draco entered the pub, relieved to be done with work at last. The Aurors he worked with were already gathered in the back corner they always occupied. Leila, one of his partners in the Auror potions lab, went to the bar for drinks while he snagged them seats.

“Here, Draco! I saved a seat for you,” Potter called out. He moved his Auror robes from the chair beside him and pointed for Draco.

Draco hesitated. “Thank you, Potter, but Leila’s with me.” 

“Oh that’s okay, she can sit down there by Alan. Here, I went ahead and got you a firewhiskey, too.” As Draco sank into the chair gratefully, Potter handed over a glass with the beautiful amber liquid that smelled of joy and relaxation. Unfortunately… 

“I would love some,” Draco said with a sigh, “but unfortunately I’m on call this weekend.”

Potter cocked his head in confusion. “I thought Aiden and Jemma switched off weekends.” 

“Yes but Aiden has a wedding to go to, and Jemma is still visiting her sister, so I offered because Leila covered the last time. So no alcohol for me.” He smiled at Leila when she brought him his gillywater.

“Oh, well…” Potter scrunched up his face at the glass of firewhiskey.

“No matter,” Weasley said loudly, “I’ll take it.” He tossed the drink back, as Potter glared at him. Weasley shrugged and winked, “What? You hate firewhiskey.”

Potter threw the umbrella from his drink at Weasley and stuck his tongue out. Those two would never grow up.

\--------

The following week had Draco ready to tear his hair out. His lab was trying to break down Dormon, a new black market potion meant to induce wild, erotic dreams. Perhaps it did. It was hard to tell among the comatose bodies it was leaving behind. All four members of the lab had been working almost non-stop trying to isolate the ingredients to both create an antidote and perhaps get a lead on a supplier. No luck so far.

“Hey,” Potter called as he poked his head in the lab. “How’s it coming?”

“Terrible,” Draco whined. He threw his glasses on his desk and rubbed at his face. “I think we’re missing something but I don’t know what.”

“Oh. Well I’m sure you’ll get there. Are you still coming out to the pub?”

“I doubt it. I’m knackered and think I’d rather just get a quick bite to eat and head home.”

“Oh,” Potter said. His face lit up. “If you’d like, we can go to this Indian place near my flat. It’s sort of a dive but it’s got great food. If you want.”

Draco nodded absently. “Yeah sure. I’m off at six. Meet you in the atrium?”

“Yeah! That’ll be great. I’ll see you then.” Potter grinned like a fool and nodded goodbye. 

Draco rolled his eyes at Potter’s childlike enthusiasm then went back to his notes. He worked with Leila through the afternoon, trying yet another distilling method to separate the ingredients. His wand chimed at ten minutes to six to remind him to wrap it up and go meet Potter.

“It’s time to go.” He sighed heavily. “It’s probably for the best. This potion is driving me mad.”

“Something is off about the proportions here,” Leila said, pointing at the graph they’d made of their best guess so far.

“I’m going to dinner with Potter. Indian. You want to come with us? We can maybe go over it again?” 

“He won’t mind?”

“Probably not,” Draco said with a shrug. “Just something quick before heading home, you know?”

“All right then. Let me grab my things.”

Potter was waiting by the lifts when Draco came up. He must also be tired after a long week of raids and dead ends on the Dormon case because his face was pinched at the sight of Draco and Leila.

“Hope you don’t mind if Leila joins us? We thought we could go over our notes while we ate.”

Potter shrugged with a half smile. “Yeah, no that’s fine. Do you like Indian food?”

“Love it! Always looking for a new place to try!” Leila grinned. 

“Great, well. Er, follow me, then?” Potter led the way, chattering idly about the case and the leads they’d followed thus far.

The little restaurant was indeed sketchy. But the staff was kind, and the food smelled delicious, so Draco wasn’t going to complain. Potter wound down on his babbling and ordered their food, as Draco pulled his notes out and started going over the graph one more time with Leila. 

“You know, it seems like here is where it goes wrong in the breakdown. Do you think if the ratio changed,” Draco absently pat his pockets. Potter conjured a pencil and offered it to Draco. “Yes, thank you. If the ratio looked like this, and we added the asphodel at the end here. Then we’d have...” His body felt light and floaty, a sure sign he was on the right track. “I think we added it too soon.”

“Draco! That’s brilliant! I’ll send a note to Aiden. He can brew another batch over the weekend.”

“I think I’d rather take the lead.” Draco was already gathering his notes to return to the lab. 

“Are you sure? He's perfectly capable - “

“No, we’ve struggled too long with this. I want to be sure it’s done right.” He nudged at Potter to move out of the booth. “You don’t mind, do you? We can catch dinner again another time, right?”

“No,” Potter cleared his throat and smiled. “No it’s fine. I know this is important to you.” He coughed again, “to all of us. I’ll catch you next time.”

“Thanks. For inviting us.” Draco was already making more notes as he followed Leila to the door. He apologized for accidentally bumping one of the waitresses. Thankfully she caught her tray before it fell.

His mind already on the potion, he took no notice of Potter, alone with a table full of food. 

\-------

On Tuesday morning, Draco was finally brewing a successful antidote to Dormon. His neck and shoulders ached from being hunched over a cauldron for the past few days but he ignored it. He knew he’d gotten it right this time.

He used a dropper to add the distilled foxglove oil. One, two, three, four - 

A quick knock sounded, then Potter entered, smiling, “Hey Draco!”

“Seven, eight, nine, ten…” he said aloud. Eleven, twelve… Thankfully Potter sat quietly waiting for Draco to finish. Twenty drops. Perfect. Rubbing his neck, Draco looked up at Potter. “What do you need?” Draco set a timer with his wand. 

“Oh, I was just, er, Ginny gave me two tickets to see the Harpies play the Magpies. This weekend. I thought maybe you’d want to go with me?”

Draco looked over his notes. Twenty drops foxglove, let simmer ninety seconds, remove from flame and stir. “I’m more of a Falcons fan.” He lowered the flame on his cauldron and double checked his timer. “Don’t you have someone else you could take with you?”

“Yeah, I guess. I thought, maybe since you’d been working so hard on the Dormon…”

He cut the flame off entirely and stirred gently around the cauldron. A perfect ice blue. Draco’s shoulders sagged in relief. “I’ve still got a lot left to do. Better you find someone else.”

“Right, yeah. Okay. Er, well… I’ll see you, I guess.” Potter closed the door quietly behind him.

Draco whistled happily as he decanted the potion into several small vials. Nothing like a perfect brew to brighten his day.

\--------

Draco practically floated home that evening. Tonight was a night for celebration. He'd earned a day off work and he was going to use it well. 

A quick bite to eat and a long shower later, he dressed in his favorite black leather pants, and a tight white v-neck t-shirt. 

The _Magician’s Wand_ was a wizard-owned dance club open to muggles. Draco bypassed the line entirely and hugged the bouncer at the door. 

“Draco! Been a while!”

“Work.” Draco scrunched up his face. With a smile, he nodded at the club door. “How are we tonight?”

“Magical,” the bouncer said with a wink. 

Draco slapped him on the arse and went inside. The music thrummed in his veins, driving his worries away. “Magical” was code for more wizards than muggles so Draco would have to take care tonight. Another picture in the _Prophet_ might send his father to an early grave. 

On the other hand, as the night raged on, Draco cared less and less. He drank whatever someone bought for him. If along the way he lost his shirt and found body glitter, who was there to care? 

In the wee hours of Wednesday morning he stumbled out laughing, pulling along a sweet “innocent” ready to suck him off at his earliest convenience. They apparated to Draco’s flat and had their own fun before passing out on Draco’s sumptuous bed. 

When he woke late Wednesday afternoon, the twink was gone. Thank goodness Draco didn't have to get rid of him. 

He took a hangover potion and a long shower before searching out some food. He flipped through his mail, only taking interest in the note from Jemma with an update on his antidote. All was well. 

Draco took a book out onto his balcony and read in the dying light of the sunset. He summoned a glass and the bottle of firewhiskey. He sipped at it, enjoying his view and the complete absence of stress. 

Life was good. 

\--------

Thursday morning Draco dressed in his lab robes for work. He hummed through his breakfast of tea and toast, only glancing at the _Daily Prophet_ to catch the day's headlines. He'd read it more thoroughly with dinner. 

This turned out to be a mistake. He was accustomed to the stares as he moved through the Ministry to the Auror potions lab. But when he arrived, he found a large photo of himself on the bulletin board, giggling and covered in glitter, dragging that idiot with him. Fuck, he made the paper again. 

Just great. 

“Draco! Stephanie clipped that for you! For your scrapbook!” Aiden said, leaning on Leila, the two of them struggling not to laugh. 

“Ha bloody ha,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. He threw an incindio at the photo. “You can thank your wife and remind her, again, that I do not have a scrapbook.”

As Draco watched, another copy of the photo popped up on the board. He looked at Aiden with a questioning quirk of his eyebrow. 

“Did you know that with one focused geminio spell, you can make about twenty copies of a photo in moments?” Aiden said innocently. 

“And,” Leila added, “if _two_ people do the spell, you can make forty copies!”

Draco sighed. “Just please tell me they at least stayed here in the lab.”

“Oh there was no need to share,” Aiden laughed. “The Aurors made their own copies.” That was apparently the limit because Leila and Aiden collapsed into giggles. 

Draco rolled his eyes again and got to work with a sigh. It had been nearly three months since Draco appeared in the paper this way. The _Daily Prophet_ loved to paint him as an uncontrolled party animal, when really it was just occasionally to relax from a very stressful job. 

It would mean another disappointed letter from his father and a lecture on proper decorum from his mother but Draco didn't care. Head Auror Robards didn’t care if Draco ran starkers through Diagon Alley, so long as he got his work done. Which he did, and better than anyone. 

\--------

Three weeks later, Draco and his mother rolled through the floo at his Aunt Andromeda’s house. Ten year old Teddy barrelled through the living room and squeezed Draco in a tight hug. Immediately he started babbling about the afternoon quidditch game they were heading to. Amid the hubbub, Andromeda and, surprisingly Potter, joined them in the sitting room.

Andromeda hugged them both hello. “Narcissa, darling! Draco, you’re looking well.” 

“Thank you Aunt Andi,” Draco replied. He turned to smile at Potter, “I didn’t know you would be here.”

“I’m heading to the Burrow for lunch but I stopped here to pick up some of Teddy’s old things to take to Hermione for Rose and Hugo.” He indicated the box by the floo. “I didn’t know you’d be here either.”

“I’m taking this little man,” he gave Teddy a hearty slap on the back, “to a quidditch game while Mother and Aunt Andi get a bit of quiet time. Go Arrows!” He shot a few sky blue sparks from his wand, making Teddy jump and whistle. Draco laughed at his young cousin. “Arrows are playing the Magpies and I got us two tickets. Go get your Arrows shirt on, silly!” He gave Teddy a playful shove out the door.

“I thought you were a Falcons fan?” Potter said with a hesitant smile.

Draco shrugged. Who cared what team he followed? Quidditch was quidditch, right? “Teddy follows the Arrows so…”

“Maybe I can come with you? I’m sure I can get another ticket at the gate.” Potter bit his lip, eyes their typical wide and innocent.

“I thought you were going to the Burrow?” Draco darted a glance at his mother, watching him like a hawk.

“Yeah but I do that every month. It would be fun, to hang out with you two.”

“Maybe next time?” Draco felt a pang of guilt at Potter’s frozen smile. “It’s just, I don’t get a lot of one-on-one time with Teddy and… “ His mother's frown sent a chill down his spine. Did he say something wrong? Potter had plans; they all already had plans. 

“Right. I didn’t think of that.” He stooped to pick up his box as Teddy came crashing into the sitting room with his bright blue jersey and matching blue hair.

“I’m ready, Draco! Let’s go!”

“Next time?” Draco asked Potter, suddenly feeling off kilter.

Potter smiled his usual playful smile. “Of course. You two have fun.”

Draco hesitantly kissed his frowning mother and aunt, then disapparated with Teddy. 

\--------

Draco’s discomfort didn’t ease for the entire game. He cheered along with Teddy, but never managed to focus. Something was off about his encounter with Potter but he didn’t know what.

He took Teddy out for a celebratory ice cream, blue for the winning Arrows, then returned him to Andromeda. She thanked Draco for taking Teddy for the day but only gave him a curt hug as he left. Narcissa was equally curt as he delivered her to the Manor. She didn’t shove him back out through the floo, but it was a close call.

Draco waited the rest of the weekend for some sort of ranting from his mother. He even stayed home the entire time, afraid of pictures in the paper setting her off. But nothing happened. 

He was on edge as he went into the lab on Monday morning, snapping at everyone that crossed his path. He was surprised later in the day by a box of his favorite chocolate biscuits left mysteriously on his desk. A small note attached said merely, _Cheer up, Monsieur Grumpy Pants_. He sighed, and mentally thanked his staff for the little treat. It did improve his mood somewhat.

It worried him that his overly chatty mother never called, never owled. Draco was tense, and irritable. Even a night or two dancing, just dancing and carefully glamoured this time, did nothing to improve his mood. After two weeks, he finally let his guard down and told himself he’d overreacted to a tiny, almost-nothing incident.

And then came the summons from the Manor.

A letter from his mother landed on his desk, inviting him to a birthday party for his father. Lucius would be fifty-five this year, and they had much to celebrate. Draco’s presence was required.

And the line that felt like a knife to the gut, _There will be several eligible young witches and wizards for you to meet._

Draco’s palms felt clammy and he thought his lunch might make a reappearance. Not this again! His parents would be ambushing him with marriage talk, knowing good and well that Draco would never be settling down with any witch. And he certainly didn't want any wizard they chose for him. Damn it, he knew something like this was coming!

Potter popped in the lab again. “Hey Draco! I have another blood sample that needs testing. Suspect was babbling like a loon, so we think it’s Euphoria? If you could - what’s happened? Are you all right?”

Draco dropped his head into his hands. “Everything is going to shit today. Just leave the sample over there and I’ll get to it as soon as I can.”

Potter set the vial of blood on the inbox tray. “Do you need something? You look like you might be ill.” He took Draco’s empty mug and filled it with an aguamenti. Draco gulped it gratefully.

“It’s my mother. My parents. It’s apparently time to talk of settling down.” Draco’s hysterical laugh choked off. “I should have seen this coming. My father's birthday is always a good time to bring it up.” He handed the invitation to Potter. “There’s to be a party.”

“Hmm…” Potter glanced at the letter, taking it all in quickly. He pursed his lips and stared off into space. “I think what you need is a date.”

“They’ve got several for me, didn’t you see?”

“No, you need to come with your own date. Tell them you’ve been dating someone but you hadn’t wanted to say anything just yet. Maybe something about how this party was a good time to make introductions.”

Draco’s mind raced with possibilities. Yes, this could work. He rarely dated anyone long enough to introduce to his parents. His mother wouldn't think twice about not being introduced sooner. It had to be someone that knew him well enough to fake it. At least through the party, maybe a date or two after.

But who? His list of fit, single men that knew him well was, unfortunately, quite short. His eyes wandered in thought until they landed on Potter’s wide smile. 

Yes, Potter. He was perfect. He knew Draco. He was single. He was passably handsome. All right, he was a fucking masterpiece. Draco would have taken him for a ride ages ago, if Potter wasn't so squeaky clean. 

Harry was exactly the kind of wholesome his mother hoped for. And best of all, he was a sap that would do anything to help a friend.

“That’s an excellent idea, Potter! Would you be willing to help me out?”

Potter shrugged with nonchalance, “I guess I could do it. It wouldn’t be much, right? The party, maybe a few dates after?”

“That sounds about right. Are you certain? It's a lot to ask. I’ll definitely owe you one. Maybe even two.”

“It’s okay Draco, this isn’t a scale we need to balance. I love intrigue and elaborate schemes!” He winked at Draco. “Maybe you should come to mine sometime? We can get our story together?”

“Yes.” Draco mentally ran through his week. “How about Thursday? And then maybe the following Thursday to finalize anything. The party is Saturday after that. We’ll do something the following weekend too. Something public but low-key. And then break up the week after that.”

“Sure. We’ll see how it goes. I mean, you can't drop me too soon or they'll get suspicious.” Potter fidgeted in his chair. “So Thursday at mine? I’ll make us dinner.”

“No need to go to any more trouble - “

“It’s no trouble.”

“ - I’ll bring some take-away. That’ll be faster.”

“All - all right. Maybe I’ll cook next time.” Potter stood abruptly and smiled one last time. “See you Thursday then.”

Draco waved goodbye and began searching his cupboard for the Elixir of Euphoria tracer, already mentally composing a reply to his mother.

\--------

Potter stopped by later in the week with Draco’s favorite chocolate biscuits. Fake dating might turn out nicely if he got treats like that. On Thursday, a memo flew into the lab, confirming dinner at Potter’s flat, along with the address. 

Nerves almost made Draco call the whole thing off. Potter rarely dated but when he did it was with proper witches and wizards. The pictures in the _Daily Prophet_ were always chaste pecks on the cheek, quiet dinners, polite waving to onlookers. When they finally went their separate ways, they only had vague, sweet things to say about Potter. Who would believe he was interested in Draco? Or that Draco would be interested in someone so predictably dull?

But Potter was the ultimate prize and his father would never force someone on him with Potter on his arm. If they could get through the party, and a few weeks after, it might distract his parents enough to leave him alone for a while.

What would he do the next time they brought up marriage? How long could he drag this out?

He’d just have to see what Potter had to say.

\--------

Draco had never been to Potter’s flat but he'd seen the spread in _Witch Weekly_. All the knick knacks and decorations, including Potter’s numerous awards, were missing. Without them, the flat was sparse and bland. Much like its owner. Cream colored furniture and beige walls left no visual interest anywhere. And Draco said so.

Potter shrugged it off as he pulled the take-away containers from their bag. He inhaled deeply over the garlic bread. “I’m not here much so I don’t care what it looks like. My bed is comfortable and that’s all that matters.” He opened the containers of lasagna and stuffed shells, then set the lasagna at Draco’s seat.

Draco considered his own luscious flat that he mostly just slept in. “I suppose you’re right,” he said with a frown.

He poured a glass of wine for himself and drank deeply. “So,” Draco said with false cheer, “how long have we been dating?”

Potter bit his lip as he considered it. “Do you think she’d believe we were dating before you took Teddy to the quidditch game?” He poured his own glass of wine and topped off Draco’s glass.

“Maybe? If we said something about how it was still sort of new?” Draco nibbled at his garlic bread. “Oh! What if we said we didn’t want to go together because we were afraid Teddy would find out and blab our secret.”

“Sure,” Potter said slowly. “Yeah, that might work. It would explain why you were being so weird.”

“I wasn’t weird!” Draco protested, knowing full well something weird had happened that day.

“That’ll buy us time. Two weeks before the quidditch game, and the party four weeks after.That’s pretty good, right?”

“It’s a good start. Where was our first date? Did you ask me out? Why are we keeping it secret?”

“Out to dinner? Somewhere muggle. I asked you out. And we didn’t want the press making a big deal about it until we were sure it was going somewhere.” Potter tilted his head from side to side, considering. “Press will get wind of it if we’re at a party at your parents’ house. Will that be okay?”

“It’s not ideal. It’ll make breaking up more difficult. But I don’t care what they write. They make up most of it anyway.”

“Like you covered in body glitter with your tongue down some pretty boy's throat?”

Draco grinned wickedly. “All right, maybe not all of it is lies.”

Potter returned the grin. “If it helps, it was a very good picture of you.” Did Potter just wink at him? Draco rolled his eyes.

They talked for another two hours about the course of their “relationship” over the past month, how to handle the press, and what they would tell their friends. Draco really only had his lab partners to worry about, and he would tell them what he was going to tell his mother. Potter promised to do the same with his Weasleys.

When Draco finally made it home, he settled easily into sleep. He could see no flaws in the plan.

\--------

Draco was tempted to skip pub night the next day. What if Potter hadn’t told his friends yet? What if he had? The uncertainty was more than Draco wanted at the end of a work day. But Potter and Weasley stopped by his office to pick him up so Draco was forced to go.

At least Potter bought the drinks.

Weasley didn’t act any different so Draco didn’t either. He still flirted unnecessarily, drank his firewhiskey, told outrageous stories of his potions adventures, and laughed too loud at the audacity of Aurors. It was a good night made better when Potter offered to apparate him home so he could have a bit of extra firewhiskey.

During the week, Potter stopped by the lab frequently, with chit chat and occasionally lunch for Draco. It was nice, not having to think of lunch for himself, but he worried Potter was laying it on a little thick. 

After their third shared lunch of the week, Draco said to Jemma, “Potter’s been around so much, I’m starting to think he works here.”

Jemma quirked her head at Draco, “It’s no more than usual.”

“Really?” Draco tried to think back over the past few weeks but it was all a big blur of brewing and paperwork.

“Plus,” she added, “it’s sweet that your boyfriend wants to see you so much. I mean, my husband is only a single flight of stairs up and I can’t be bothered. But then, I get to take him home with me everyday.”

That evening found Draco once again knocking on Potter’s door. They would be finalizing their plans for the party Saturday. And hopefully scheduling their break-up because it had not even been two weeks and already Potter was a drag.

“Hey! Come in.” Potter held the door wide, his usual grin in place.

“Smells good in here! I brought another bottle of wine.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to.”

“It’s the least I could do since you’re cooking for me.”

“It was my pleasure. I’m nearly done, if you want to go ahead and sit.”

Draco followed Potter to his kitchen and made himself comfortable at the table. Draco poured the wine while Potter finished stirring whatever was in the skillet. It smelled delicious. Potter plated their food then brought it to the table. Green curry over rice. Excellent.

Draco inhaled deeply before taking a bite. “Mmm! This tastes as good as it smells. I didn’t know you cooked.”

“Well it can’t all be take-away all the time, now can it?”

“Alas.”

Potter grinned and began eating. Draco shared what he knew of the party, and what they could expect, while they ate. 

“Did you decide what you’re wearing?”

“Er, yeah?” Harry responded. “I figured I’d wear my navy blue dress robes. And you could do the same? Navy blue suits you.”

“Hmm… yes. Let me take a look at them?”

“Sure. Yeah.” Potter hopped up from his chair. “Oh, maybe after you’re done eating?”

“Now is good. I’m stuffed,” Draco said before taking one last bite.

He followed Potter down the hall to his bedroom. Draco was pleasantly surprised it no longer looked like Godric Gryffindor threw up inside, as it did in the magazine. Now, the bedding and carpet were various shades of rich, vibrant blue that felt warm and inviting. 

The bed was large, with a fluffy soft duvet over it and intricate wrought iron curling around the head and foot boards. It was offset along the wall by a wide, nearly floor-to-ceiling window looking out onto the street. It must be enchanted because there were no curtains to hide the occupants of the room. The carpet was soft and plush under his shoes, tempting him to take them off to feel it on his toes.

Reaching in the wardrobe, Potter pulled out a navy blue robe shot through around the edges with a shimmery silver thread. 

“Right, I remember now. I have some that are similar in a dark green. Perhaps that would be a better choice?”

“Up to you. I’m just going for the food.”

“And to impress my mother.”

“And to impress your mother. No need to worry there, Narcissa loves me.”

Draco narrowed his eyes at Potter’s flippant tone. Although he had to admit Potter was right. Narcissa loved to wax poetic about Potter’s good points every time he appeared in the paper. Or Draco did. 

In the sitting room, Draco sighed. Saturday would be sealing his fate for the foreseeable future. “I suppose I’ll pick you up? Eight all right?”

“Yeah, that sounds great. I’ll be ready.”

“Very good.” Draco retrieved his cloak and headed for the door. He turned to Potter and asked, “Anything else we need to cover?”

Potter leaned on the open door. “Do you top or bottom?”

Draco’s eyes scanned up and down Potter’s body. “I’m flexible,” he said with a smile. “Anything else?” 

Potter winked, which unfortunately caused Draco to blush lightly. “Nope, that covers it.”

Off kilter once again, Draco nodded and swept out the door.

\--------

Narcissa beamed and kissed both of Potter’s cheeks when they arrived at the Manor on Saturday. Potter shrugged sheepishly, with an adorable blush. Draco didn’t want to give them too much time to get chummy. No one could spot a liar faster than Narcissa. And Potter was a terrible liar.

Or rather, he used to be. As they took a turn about the room, Potter chatted amiably with everyone. He made it sound like he and Draco were blissfully happy, and hoping to keep it to themselves just a bit longer. Each person left feeling like they were the first to hold the secret of their relationship. Draco knew every single one of them would be owling the _Prophet_ at first opportunity.

Joke was on them, because Draco already owled them.

“Well Draco, you seem to have done well for yourself,” Lucius said pompously, as they observed the party from a corner of the room.

“Yes, Father.”

“I hope this means I will no longer be seeing disgraceful pictures of you half naked in the morning paper. It certainly puts one off one’s breakfast.”

“Of course not, Father.” Draco felt the walls closing in. He loved his stressful and exciting job, but only because he could blow off all the pressure on the weekends with loud music and alcohol. And the occasional willing partner. Thinking of the celibate and sober weeks to come, beyond the ones he’d already suffered, was daunting.

“There you are, love!” Potter smiled charmingly at the two Malfoys. “I thought we could step out for a breath of fresh air?” He offered his arm to Draco and led them to the balcony doors.

Draco sighed heavily in the cool night air. “My father is pleased.”

“Good. Mission accomplished then?”

“For now.” 

“You’re worrying about later, aren’t you?”

“How can you tell?”

Potter smiled at him, peering intently into his eyes. “I can practically see the wheels turning in your head. Calm down. We’ve only just begun. Worrying that far ahead will only make you sick.”

“I think this was a mistake.”

“No. It’s brilliant. You’ll see.” Potter brushed a stray hair from Draco’s face. He leaned forward, almost as though he would kiss Draco.

“Potter…” Draco said softly, not wanting to hurt his feelings, but also not terribly interested in a kiss. Not here, not like this.

Potter jerked back and looked out over the lawns. “Sorry, guess I got carried away.” He tapped the balustrade nervously. “Maybe you should start calling me Harry. It’s more convincing.”

“Right. Yes. Harry.” Draco glanced through the glass doors to see his mother talking happily to his father. Her eye met Draco’s. She blew him a kiss and inclined her head to Potter. Draco took Potter’s hand and pulled him in for a hug. He whispered softly, “My mother is watching.”

“Well, as long as she’s watching,” Harry mumbled. He wrapped his arms around Draco nuzzled their noses together. “Does that mean I should kiss you after all?”

“Ew, no, not while my mother can see. I just meant we should hug a bit, make it look like we like each other.”

Potter’s face scrunched up in confusion. “I’m not following. Take a stronger lead.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Kissing is too much of a display. But hugging is all right.”

“What about dancing? Will you dance with me?”

Potter was looking at him intently again, making Draco feel uncomfortably warm. “Sure. Yes, let’s go inside.”

They stayed to the edges of the dance floor, swaying gently. Draco glanced around, hoping his parents were nearby and he could make his excuses soon.

Potter tugged Draco’s head down to whisper in his ear. “If we pretend to be overcome with lust, we can make our escape and everyone will think it’s romantic instead of rude.”

“Interesting theory.”

Potter began by moving them slower and slower until they were barely moving. Their bodies brushed against each other with every small movement. His hands stayed up by Draco’s neck but his fingers idly curled the hair at the nape of his neck. He nuzzled their noses together again, occasionally offering a chaste peck on the lips. 

Draco was confused by the response from his body. This wasn’t the sort of foreplay he was used to. But the soft, slow movements were enticing nonetheless. And ever since Potter asked about his preferences, he found himself easily distracted picturing them together. 

Mid-song, Potter smiled wickedly and said, “Let’s go.” He glanced around furtively, blushed, then pulled Draco along behind him to the floo. Without even a goodbye to his parents, they left for Potter’s flat.

Potter’s cheeks were flushed and his smile was near-blinding. “Success! Now they think we’re shagging.”

“Oh excellent,” Draco said with an eyeroll. “Now the headline can read ‘Malfoy playboy corrupts Chosen One.’ That’s just great! And we didn’t even say goodbye to my parents. That’s terribly rude, you know.”

Draco only felt a little guilt when Potter’s face fell. “I was only trying to help. Your mother won’t mind. I’m sure they’ll think it’s romantic. A whirlwind love affair.”

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry. I’m a little wound up, is all. This was - good. Stressful, but good.”

“Would you like a drink, maybe? You don’t need to leave just yet. You’re welcome to stay the night, if you want.”

“That won’t be necessary. I just want to go home.” Draco took a pinch of floo powder and sighed. “I’m sorry I was grouchy. This was - you played the part perfectly. Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Potter said softly just before Draco whooshed away.

The next day the _Daily Prophet_ ran the statement Draco had drafted with Potter, alongside a few choice words from a few of last night’s guests. How terribly romantic it all was, how adorable they were together, how pleased they were to see Potter so happy.

There was the occasional grumble about Draco’s playboy status and how the Saviour deserved better, but no one wanted to really pooh-pooh Potter’s choices, no matter how questionable.

His morning mail also included a letter from his mother, praising the party and Draco’s good fortune. She was sorry to have missed the opportunity to say so in person, but remembered young love well and so all was forgiven. She hoped Draco would bring Potter around for tea sometime soon.

The press was clamoring for pictures and so the Ministry atrium was more crowded than usual when Draco went in to work on Monday. Potter was already there, smiling for the cameras, and reiterating their earlier statement. Someone handed him a baby, which he dutifully kissed on the head, and passed back.

Draco, already annoyed, marched up to the assembled group. He grabbed a surprised Potter by the arm, and pulled him in for a deep, hard kiss. One hand plunged into Potter’s thick hair, while the other came around his waist to pull their bodies flush against each other. Flashbulbs went off left and right, and a hush fell over the crowd.

Draco suddenly let go of a dazed and smiling Potter to glare at the reporters. “Good for tomorrow’s edition, yes? Now get out of here. We have jobs to get to.” He pulled Potter along behind him to the lifts. He was thankful the occupants hadn’t wanted to miss the show because the lift was there waiting on them. Their dramatic exit was complete.

“That was. Excellent.” Potter was wearing a big, goofy grin that suited him perfectly.

Draco smirked. “The kiss or telling off the press?”

“Both.” Potter took his hand, surely for the benefit of the other two occupants of the lift, and rested his head on Draco’s shoulder. When they arrived at their floor, Potter held his hand until he offered a quick peck on the cheek. They parted ways and went on to work.

\--------

The picture of their kiss made it onto the lab bulletin board. The Aurors wrote on the backs of their copies of the image to send interoffice memos throughout the week. Potter stopped by several times with both legitimate lab requests and just to annoy Draco at work. Finally he invited Draco back to his flat so they could plan their next “date”.

“I can’t. I’m really rather busy here, you know?”

Potter tossed an empty test tube in the air and caught it. “I know. Because when you’re busy, I’m busy. But you still have to eat dinner, right? Come to mine. Or better yet, we can go out somewhere and people can see us together in public.” He put the test tube back in the tray and smiled hopefully at Draco. “Don’t you want the chance to yell at the press again? I’m not going to lie, that was dead sexy.”

Draco knew he was fighting a lost battle. He’d told his mother he was dating, so dating he must pretend to do. “Fine. Dinner tonight, before we head to the pub?”

“Actually, I was thinking of skipping pub night? We can go out, get a few drinks, just you and me?”

Great, first no more nights out dancing and now pub night was gone too. He scowled down at his paperwork. “Fine. We’ll go on a date.”

“Hey,” Potter said softly, leaning in close to Draco, “it won’t be so bad.” His breath tickled in Draco’s ear, and he wasn’t quite sure if Potter’s lips grazing his cheek counted as a kiss or not. Regardless, it elevated his heart rate.

Potter picked him up at the lab and they left the Ministry together, holding hands as they walked to a small Italian restaurant. Draco took in the muggles smiling over their pasta and tensed a bit. 

“This place is muggle?” he whispered to Potter.

“Yeah, is that a problem?”

“Only that there’s no press here. The point of eating in public is so the press sees us and posts a full report, right?”

“Maybe we can go out, just to go out. We have plenty of time later to plan a public date. This can be just us, getting to know each other.”

Ugh, they'd known each other forever! “What’s the point of that?”

Potter rolled his eyes, “I’m beginning to wonder.”

The waitress led a smiling Potter and a grumpy Draco to a candlelit table in the back. She handed them menus with a wink.

“This is nice. I haven’t been on a date in forever.”

Draco glared at his menu. “This isn’t a date.”

Potter sighed, “Can’t you just pretend? Pretend you’re trying to get into my pants. Wouldn’t you wine and dine me? Charm me a little with your rapier wit?”

“No, Potter - “

“Harry.”

“No, _Harry_ , I’d buy you a drink and offer to suck you off in the alley behind the club.”

“Is that a legitimate offer? Because I’m not sure I want to refuse.”

“Oh you’re hilarious. I don’t date. It’s too much trouble.”

Potter perused his menu, mouth pursed. “I don’t date either. For the same reason. Maybe we should ‘not date’ together.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying there's no need to rush to the end of this ‘relationship.’ That maybe we can help each other out. This fake-dating can solve a multitude of problems. You can tell the press,” he glanced around and said quietly, “to ‘piss off’ for me, and I can keep your parents from bugging you about marriage. Win-win, right?”

Potter, media darling, wanted to tell the press to fuck off? Since when? Keeping his marriage-minded parents at bay was enticing. Except... “And sex?” Draco asked.

Potter winked over the top of his menu. “I can be persuaded.”

Draco felt that same vertigo that seemed to follow all of Potter’s more provocative statements. Persuaded, indeed. Potter was too much trouble to fuck. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“Haven’t you thought about us at all since the party?” Potter asked with an incredulous shake of his head.

“Not really, no.”

Potter frowned. “Well think about it now. Once every couple of weeks we can make some sort of public appearance to satisfy the hungry masses, and otherwise we can carry on our lives like normal. With the occasional sleep over.”

“We’re not sleeping over.” Or sleeping together. Draco didn’t have patience for high romance.

“Fine. With the occasional fun times, and boot out the door.” 

Although, Draco thought, that didn’t sound half bad. It would be nice not having his parents hounding him or throwing wizards at him all the time. Sex would be problematic but maybe he just needed to think on that a bit more. 

The waitress brought two glasses of water and a basket of buttery bread. They placed their orders and sat in uneasy silence for a few moments.

“All right,” Draco said.

“All right what?”

“All right, I’ll try ‘not dating’ you.”

“Excellent,” Potter said with a wide smile.

“But just know that I’m very busy.”

“Me too.”

“And I won’t smile and make nice for the cameras.”

“That’s great. You won't regret this!”

Draco wasn't sure about that, but it was worth a try. 

\--------

At first, fake dating wasn’t much different from not dating at all, which suited Draco just fine. Reporters still showed up daily at the Ministry but he brushed by, ignoring them completely. Draco loved yelling, “No comment!” as he moved through the crowd and the way his bodyguard charm buzzed anyone that got too close. It was an excellent start to the day. For someone eager to shake the press, Potter certainly indulged them too often. He lingered in the atrium every morning, answering their questions and signing autographs.

Potter came by the lab nearly everyday, but that was usually work related. He invited Draco over to his flat a few times but Draco was too tired by day’s end to bother. They did make plans to go shopping in Diagon Alley, to get some press exposure. Otherwise Narcissa would get suspicious and that would defeat the whole purpose.

Draco apparated to Potter’s flat at ten on Saturday morning. This may be a date, but he wasn’t going to waste his entire Saturday. He had with him a list of ingredients he needed for his personal potions stores, another list of groceries, and two sets of robes that needed the care of a skilled tailor.

Potter was dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans. Draco rolled his eyes at the near-cliche of it all.

“Potter - “

“Harry.”

“ _Harry_ , you’re nearly thirty, don’t you think you should dress the part?”

Potter looked down at his clothes. “What’s wrong with this?”

“You’re going out in public, specifically to be photographed and that’s how you want to be immortalized?” Draco headed to Potter’s room to raid his wardrobe. “You need to dress nicer for our outing.”

“But we’re going to get groceries and ice cream. And it’s my day off!” He sullenly followed Draco. He halted in the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest. “Besides, you’re supposed to be saving me from the press.”

“Well I can only do so much. Here, put this on.” He handed Potter a simple dark grey robe cut for relaxed daywear. Potter only glared. Draco rolled his eyes and flicked his wand. Potter gasped when his clothes vanished and he was left awkwardly posed in his pants.

“Oi! Bring that back!” 

Funny, thought Draco, with arms akimbo and a deep blush, Potter was even more gorgeous - . He mentally shook his head before the idea took root. Again. He wasn’t going to sleep with Potter and make this more complicated than it was. “Relax, it’s back in the wardrobe.” Another flick of his wand sent the robes to cover that delicious, creamy skin. “There, that’s better. I suppose there’s nothing to be done about your hair?”

Potter ran his fingers through the thick locks. “Not really,” he said with a smile.

Draco sighed. “All right then. Let’s head off.”

“Wait!” Potter stopped him before he could grab the floo powder. “What if we - do you think we should kiss? Now? You know, make it look like we were fooling around before we left?”

“I suppose so,” Draco said slowly. He nibbled at his lower lip, a move Potter watched avidly, before pulling him in by the neck. The aggressive kiss made Draco’s lips tingle. He nibbled and sucked along Potter’s lips to be sure they would swell up enough for the public to notice. He stepped back to look Potter over. His eyes were glassy and his lips were indeed red and swollen in his goofy smile. Now they matched his ‘just shagged’ hairstyle. “Perfect,” Draco said. “Now let’s go.”

The day went rather well. They got a few pictures for the paper, Draco got his errands run, and Potter got to sign a few autographs while they enjoyed their ice cream. Good time for everyone. Hand-in-hand, they apparated back to Potter’s flat.

“Well, Potter, it was a lovely day.” Draco moved to the fireplace to floo home.

“That’s it, you’re leaving?”

“Yes. We spent most of the day together and now I’d like to go home and get on with my evening.”

Potter crossed his arms over his chest, brow furrowed. “Oh, big plans for tonight?”

“No. Pyjamas, firewhiskey, maybe a book. Normal sort of things.” Draco was confused by the sudden animosity from Potter. The day was good, why ruin it?

“I just thought - “ Potter sighed and scrubbed at his hair. “I thought maybe you’d stay.”

Draco’s cock twitched at the desperate look in Potter’s eyes. “I’m tempted by the offer but I’ll pass for tonight.” Before Potter could protest, he stepped into the green flames and away.

In his own flat, Draco groaned in frustration. “Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck _fuck_!” he yelled at no one. Each invitation to Potter’s flat came heavily laden with innuendo that Draco managed to ignore. Well his brain managed to ignore it. His prick, on the other hand, pulsed an angry tattoo in his pants, full of whining about neglect. Draco rubbed himself through his clothes, groaning again at the unfairness of it all.

Why did he get himself in these situations? He hadn’t had sex in two months and now he’d turned down a serious offer. Except he couldn’t take the offer seriously. Potter seemed the type to get overly attached to all his romantic entanglements. Draco didn’t have the energy to ease him down gently. Better to stay away until this ‘relationship’ had run its course. Then he could hit the club and drown his sorrows in alcohol and blow jobs.

Did his mother appreciate the sacrifices he was making for her? He supposed he would find out the next day at brunch. Oh fuck, he was meant to invite Potter. He wrote a quick message and sent it through the floo. Ten minutes later, Potter’s affirmative reply came through. Draco breathed a sigh of relief that he didn’t have to make his excuses. Narcissa was not going to be happy with him for letting Potter get away. Whenever that day came.

\--------

Potter was already at the Manor when Draco flooed over the next day. His eyes lit up when he saw Draco, as did Narcissa’s when Potter gave Draco a quick kiss hello. 

“Good morning, darling.” Narcissa inclined her head for a kiss on the cheek. “Harry was just telling me about your date yesterday. I saw the picture in the paper, of course.”

“Yes, it was a lovely day.” Draco sat awkwardly next to Potter, unsure if he should take his hand or not. He opted for “not” so that he could take a plate of tiny sandwiches. Potter poured him a cup of tea with a smile.

“The press is quite a bother, is it not? I was just telling Harry that the two of you should go away together.”

“Yeah,” Potter agreed with a grin, “sounds like a good plan. Don’t you think? Somewhere warm and sunny.”

Images of Potter in a skimpy bathing suit, glistening with tanning oil, assaulted Draco, making him clear his throat. “Er, yes. A holiday sounds lovely.” 

Potter’s mouth quirked in a half smile. “And how are your sandwiches? Lovely as well?”

Draco scowled and set the plate down with a clatter. He sent an apologetic look at his mother. “Actually, Mother, it’s quite difficult to get away from work at the moment.”

“Draco, you know you work too much. There are three other members of your lab, darling, surely they can mix up any concoctions the Aurors need.”

“Well, they _can_ but I do it better.”

Potter pat his leg with a prideful smile at Narcissa. Then left his hand. There. On Draco’s thigh. Draco wanted to squirm, but more than that, he wanted to not make a scene. He was grateful when the house elf announced brunch was ready.

Lucius joined them at the table. He and Potter rarely spoke directly to each other but Draco sensed his approval, nonetheless. Narcissa chatted merrily, thrilled that her son was finally dating someone worthwhile. Potter regaled them with fake stories of their relationship, nearly bringing Narcissa to tears of laughter with a tale of a picnic gone wrong. A fucking picnic! Were they sixteen years old?

Draco was relieved to see the end of the meal. He wanted to go home, wank himself blind, and forget that his parents were so thrilled with his brilliant decision to date Potter.

\--------

It was another busy work week for Draco. Day-to-day maintenance of the potions supply meant that old potions were replaced regularly. But once a year, they did a massive inventory of everything, and replenished what was old or low in stock. Each day of that week was filled with counting, vanishing, and brewing. And paperwork. Mounds of paperwork on the proper disposal of each vial.

Draco was logging in the serial numbers on a case of blood replenishing potion when Potter dropped by his office. Why the fuck couldn’t these forms be duplicated? He sighed and began the next bottle. 

“Hey, so I have some unexpected plans for this weekend…” Potter rambled on about Draco-didn’t-care-what. Potion name, brew date, potioneer, serial number, reason for disposal, date of disposal. It was time to replace it. Why wasn’t it a checkbox? How many reasons could there be for disposal? And how could it only be Wednesday? Surely he’d been disposing of potions for months now!

“So what do you think?” Potter looked expectantly at Draco.

Draco blinked rapidly. He dumped the vial of blood replenishing potion into the biohazard vanishing box. “Yes, sounds fine.” The box logged the vanishing of the potion on it’s tiny parchment scroll. Draco tore off the parchment and attached it to the disposal form with a sticking charm. 

Next bottle.

“Great! Okay. Great!” Potter grinned like a fool and blew Draco a kiss as he passed Aiden on his way out the door.

“What was that about?” Aiden asked as he dumped another twenty vials on Draco’s desk.

“No idea.” Potion name, brew date, potioneer…

\--------

Friday morning an owl delivered a note and a small figure of a dragon. The note said, “For this evening. See you at seven!” Draco, perplexed, set the dragon on his desk while he began the day’s inventory.

Potter didn’t come by for lunch, which was just as well because Draco worked right through it. It looked as though the inventory could be finished today if he didn’t face any other distractions. He was tempted to just throw away the last of the old potions, certain no one read the reports he was writing anyway, but couldn’t risk his job for it.

Aiden finished the last of his brewing at six and made his escape before Leila and Draco could request his help. He shared a packet of biscuits with Leila as they finished the last set. Thank fuck! Another year of inventory done!

He checked his watch and saw that it was nearly eight already. Damn, he was late for whatever Potter wanted. He searched his desk for the tiny dragon figurine but it was missing. He tried summoning it, but nothing happened. Leila hadn’t seen it either.

The Aurors on night duty in the office hadn’t seen Potter. He must have left before they arrived. Draco considered where he might find Potter and then decided he didn’t care. He was too tired to go out tonight. He went to his flat and sent a simple note through the floo. “Sorry I missed you, but I’m knackered from work. Going to sleep it off.”

\--------

Draco slept until almost noon the next day. He loved the Saturdays with no plans. Idly he searched through his mail, confused there was no response from Potter. He shrugged it off in the shower, and decided a day home alone was exactly what he needed.

He began to feel antsy as the afternoon wore on, sure there was something he’d forgotten. He was tempted to send another message to Potter but it felt ominous that he’d received no response thus far. 

Suddenly Draco couldn’t stand the walls of his flat any longer. He’d had a horribly long week at work. He hadn’t had sex in forever. And he was sick of pacing the floor.

With his club clothes on, and his face glamoured, he left the flat for a night out. He worried momentarily about cheating on Potter but decided it didn’t matter. They weren’t really dating anyway.

Fuck, the music was louder than he remembered. The blood hummed in his veins, already giving him a high. He drank four wake-the-dead shots to drive himself higher, then joined the crowd on the dance floor. He was groped and fondled until he was so hard he ached. This was what he had missed, these last weeks with Potter, the loud music, the grinding of bodies against his own. 

And yet, he declined every offer of something more. It felt too much like cheating, even if he had tried rationalizing it earlier. Instead, he drowned himself in the music and let it carry him away. Wrung out, he finally flooed back to his flat as dawn approached. Sweaty and tired, he started peeling off his clothes before he’d left the sitting room.

“Have a good night?”

“Holy fucking shit!” Draco screamed, pulling his wand at the figure on his sofa. It was hard to focus, with the large amount of alcohol in his bloodstream, and his shirt hanging off his shoulders. “Potter? What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Looking for you. What the fuck happened?”

Draco was taken aback by his language. Did Potter say fuck? 

“I didn’t know where you were. So I went - I went out. Dancing.” He combed his fingers through his sweaty hair and pulled the edges of his shirt back together. “Just dancing. And drinking. I drank a lot.” He giggled nervously.

“I was in France. With the Weasleys. Without you.”

“Oh.” Draco thought about the missing dragon figurine. “The dragon was a portkey?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Silence, heavy and awkward, settled.

Finally, Potter growled, “That’s all you have to say? ‘Oh?’”

Draco squirmed under Potter’s furious gaze. “I don’t - “

“You know what? I don’t care,” Potter spat angrily. He stalked across the room to Draco. “I’m done with you. I can’t take any more of this.” He reached out and grabbed Draco’s neck, pushing him against the wall. “You were supposed to care! Supposed to be - “ He growled and slammed Draco against the wall a second time. “Such a damn shame. I didn’t even get to fuck this pretty mouth of yours.”

Potter gave Draco a filthy wet kiss that set Draco’s heart racing, and blood rushing back to his cock. He shoved away from Draco with an angry glare and stepped into green flames, leaving Draco panting, confused, and wanting. Desperately wanting. 

What the fuck just happened? Where did goofy, mild-mannered Potter go? Draco groaned as he palmed his cock through his tight trousers. The thought of Potter fucking his mouth… He had to find him. Get off. Figure out what the fuck was happening.

Apparating was too risky after so much alcohol. Really, using the floo again was also risky but it was a better bet. Throwing the powder in the fireplace, he tumbled out into Potter’s flat.

Potter must have started stripping immediately, because he left a trail of clothes leading out of the sitting room. Grinning with the certainty alcohol gave him, Draco peeled out of his clothes and followed the trail. He found Potter, completely starkers, in front of the huge window in his room with one hand braced against the glass while the other wanked himself. The early morning light trailed across his skin, highlighting the curves of his arse. 

“What do you want?” Potter asked dully, without turning around. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“A follow-up to that kiss.”

“Fuck off, Draco, we’re done.”

“We’re not done. We’re just getting started.” Draco walked across the luscious carpet, glad of his bare feet. “You think I want to leave now, when things are just getting interesting?” He stopped just behind Potter, tempted to reach out and trace down his spine.

“Interesting? Now? I’ve been trying for weeks to get you to notice me and you’ve been a complete shit about it. But now? Now you want me? Forget it!” Potter finally turned around and his eyes opened comically wide. “Why the fuck are you naked?” he exclaimed.

“What? You’re naked.” Draco took his time taking in Potter’s naked body. A fucking masterpiece. Tanned, toned, and a heavy cock that made Draco’s mouth water.

“This is my flat and I wasn’t expecting company! Especially yours!”

Draco didn’t know what to say to that so he just leaned in for a kiss. Potter’s mouth was delicious. He must have enjoyed a bit of Draco’s firewhiskey while he waited because the smoky aftertaste was still there. Draco sucked Potter’s tongue and licked along his lips. 

“No! You selfish fuck!” Potter yelled as he pulled away. He turned Draco to shove him against the glass. 

Draco could see a small crowd gathered on the pavement. A hot thrill ran down his spine. They couldn’t see him, right? Surely if Potter stood around starkers in his bedroom window there would be pictures of it.

“Do you see them? Those reporters? The fans? You were supposed to get rid of them for me. But you didn’t.” Draco bit back a moan. Potter brushed kisses along his neck and shoulders, caressed down his arms and hips. “That was the deal. I help you with your parents, you help me with the reporters. And on the side, I would get to fuck you.”

Draco was too close to the edge for this kind of play. After the dancing, the alcohol, and the press of Potter’s body, he couldn’t take much. His legs started to tremble with his impending orgasm. He took a deep breath and braced his hands against the glass. 

“But you didn’t,” Potter continued, his hand moving at an achingly slow pace. “You couldn’t spend time with me. You never once tried to get rid of them for me. And now here they are, hoping for one more picture. Always one more. What would they say if they could see you? Do you want them to see you Draco?”

Draco reached back to pull Potter closer. Abruptly Potter stopped his light touches and knocked Draco to the ground. He picked his holster up from the ground and used his wand to tie Draco’s hands behind his back. Potter pushed a kneeling Draco against the glass. His cock dripped on Draco’s lips.

“Open up. The least you can do is let me fuck you now.” Draco opened his mouth before Potter even finished speaking. Saliva flooded his mouth at the thought of swallowing Potter’s cock. Potter gave him one slow thrust to adjust and then showed no mercy. Draco relaxed his jaw against the onslaught while Potter thrust against him. “Fuck, Draco. Your mouth,” Potter groaned, “I’ve wanted this for ages. So fucking hot.” 

The bite of the windowsill into the back of his thighs was the only thing keeping Draco from coming. He wished Potter would shift just a bit so he could rub his aching cock along his leg. Begging to rut like a dog! Fuck, Potter was amazing.

Finally, Potter pressed his forehead against the glass. He gave three or four shallow thrusts before one last deep thrust, spilling hot, bitter come down Draco’s throat with a loud groan. He reached down to pet Draco’s hair as his last few thrusts pulled the final wave of his orgasm out. 

Panting heavily, he backed away, just staring at Draco. Naked, bound, and cock dripping. Just a tiny nudge, that was all Draco needed to finish. His whole body trembled with it. If only he’d known Potter would be like this.

With wand in hand, Potter summoned all of Draco’s clothes. A complicated spell had Draco dressed. What the fuck?

“Get out,” Potter said, calm once again. “We're done.”

“What? You can’t just leave me like this!” Draco said angrily.

Potter severed the bindings with his wand. Draco’s hand immediately went to his trouser-clad cock. So. Fucking. Close. But too angry to get there. 

“That’s what you think.” Potter conjured a tiny dragon figurine. He wove a spell over it and tossed it to Draco. Without thought, Draco caught it. A second later, it glowed blue and whisked him away. 

He landed with a heavy thump in his mother’s private sitting room.

“What the fuck?”

He heard a high pitched shriek and then, “Draco? What are you doing here? Are you all right?”

Draco looked around, completely confused. The dragon figurine dissolved in a whisp of smoke. Draco stood and brushed off the non-existent dirt. “Mother. I’m - I’m sorry to have bothered you. I was - I think Potter broke up with me.” Draco swiped at his mouth. Thank fuck Potter had cleaned him up before sending him off. And that these trousers could hide his quickly fading erection.

“What? Oh no!” She snapped her fingers and a house elf appeared. “Lulu, can you please bring tea, and summon my husband as well please.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Lulu apparated away with a soft pop. 

Narcissa wrapped her dressing gown tight and sat on the sofa. “Sit here, dearest, and explain what is going on.”

That was the last thing he wanted. He was disorientated and needed to sleep off the alcohol so he could think. He had been awake for too long. “I think I should go. I should… “ Draco trailed off as his mother pulled him to the sofa.

“Nonsense! Tell me what happened!”

They turned to the door as Lucius came in. “What has - oh, Draco. I didn’t know you were visiting this morning. What are you wearing?”

Draco looked down at the rumpled clothes he’d worn to the club. He blushed a little and used his wand to transfigure his thin shirt into a long tunic that was more appropriate for a visit with his parents. A visit he wanted to end quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just leaving.”

“Did something happen?”

“Yes, things have hit a rough patch with Harry,” Narcissa supplied. 

Draco snorted. “A bit more than a rough patch. He chucked me out.” He saw Lucius frown out of the corner of his eye.

“What happened, dearest?” Narcissa asked again.

“I don’t know. I missed a portkey but I didn’t know it was a portkey - “

“With the Weasleys?”

Draco’s jaw dropped. “How did you know about that?”

“Harry told me. On Wednesday. He was so happy you were going to join them. Especially since it was a weekend away for the two of you.”

“Oh,” Draco laughed nervously. He should have paid more attention back then. “Well, I didn’t remember. It was - I was working when he asked.”

“Working too hard to pay attention to your partner?” Lucius asked with disapproval. His parents never missed an opportunity to remind Draco that he worked too hard. Even worse that it had damaged his relationship.

Draco dropped his head into his hands. “Not now, all right? I didn’t know and I missed it. And I didn’t hear from him so I went out.”

“In those clothes?”

“Yes, Father, in these clothes. I didn’t fool around. It was just dancing. I’m allowed to do things without him, you know.” His father scowled but Draco continued. “He was waiting when I got back. And he yelled at me and then - “ And then he was angry and sexy and different, and he made Draco burn with a deeper arousal than he’d felt in too long. “ - and then he kicked me out with a portkey here.”

“Oh Draco,” Narcissa sighed and began to pour the tea that appeared. She handed the cup to Draco but he only set it aside. Tea wouldn’t fix him right now. “You’ll have to apologize.”

“I don’t think he wants me to apologize.”

“Of course he does!” Narcissa sighed. “Harry has tried so hard to get your attention. I’m sure he wouldn’t give up so easily.”

“He’s been a good influence on you,” Lucius added. “You could do well with someone like him.”

Jealousy burned in Draco’s belly. Of course his parents wanted Potter back. They’d never stopped worshipping him for saving Draco from the fire, for helping them after the war. It had been ten years already. When would enough be enough? But here was Draco once again falling short of their expectations. Well, fuck this.

“Yes, well, I’m not sure I want him back.” Draco stood abruptly. Both his parents frowned at him. “I don’t think we suit.”

“Draco - “

“I’m sorry. This has been… weird and difficult and I just don’t - right now I want to go home. I’ll come back. Later. When I’ve had time to think about things.”

Draco stumbled on his way to the fireplace. He shook off his mother’s restraining hand and flooed away.

\--------

Coming home had never felt so good. In the safe cozy space, Draco peeled off his clothes and climbed into bed. His erection quickly returned when he tried going over the strange events of the night. Giving up on trying to figure it out, he brought himself off with a few rough jerks of his hand. Those moments with Potter would forever be burned in his mind. The feel of the cool glass on his back, Potter’s hand in his hair, the filthy words he said. All of it was vivid, perfect. 

Sheer exhaustion from the long night had him sleeping until early afternoon. It wasn’t nearly enough, but he didn’t want to be awake all night again. He dragged himself from the bed, relieved himself, and rinsed his face. He didn’t look too hard in the mirror, knowing he would find a crumpled form of himself he wouldn’t like. A shower would have done wonders but he couldn’t be bothered.

He headed for the kitchen to see what might be edible but was brought up short by his mother sitting primly on his sofa, drinking from his nicest tea set.

“Mother! What are you doing here?” He didn’t add, ‘And how did you get in?’ because that would be rude.

His mother stared blankly for a few moments, her polite version of an eyeroll, and said, “I’m your mother. If I can’t get through your wards when I need to see you, then what use am I? Sit down, please.”

“I was just going to - “ Draco cautiously pointed at the kitchen behind him, but at her repeated blank stare, slunk to the sofa instead. He sighed, “What is it?”

“You left before we could have a proper chat about Harry.”

Draco scowled. “I don’t want to talk about it. It didn’t work out.”

“Well you hardly gave it a chance! You were so caught up in your little arrangement, you couldn’t see the possibilities it provided.”

Draco’s eyes widened, “What do you know of our arrangement?”

Narcissa sipped her tea. “Draco, my dearest and only child, how many times have I ever written to you at the Ministry?”

The entire world shrunk down to a single point that was Narcissa Malfoy. Everything else was fuzzy at the edges and Draco had a hard time getting enough air. “You - you set me up?” His mind raced through that day. “With Potter? You two were working together?”

“It was simple, of course. Pretend to date for a few weeks, and in the process get to know each other, and perhaps it would become something more.” 

“You knew? But you were laughing. That day he made all that stuff up about our dates.”

“Yes he was quite witty in the telling. And, it convinced you I didn't know. But now, darling. Now you needed to know.” She reached out to take hold of his hands. “Oh Draco, he’s such a good boy. And he would be so good for you! If you’d only give him a chance!”

Draco thought of all the times Potter had invited him over and he’d brushed it off. And how angry Potter was by the end. “I think it’s too late for that. He was - really angry.”

“I know. I warned him it would be difficult,” she said with a smile to ease the blow. “But darling, now that you know the lengths he went to just to spend time with you, can’t you see that perhaps you can get around it? He just needs to know you care. That you’re interested.”

Narcissa sipped at her tea, letting Draco think it over. Clearly there was more to Potter than he ever knew. It would be worth a conversation or two, at the very least. And, Potter owed him an orgasm. Maybe two. He pushed away thoughts of Potter naked, while he accepted the tea from his mother. Those things would wait until he was alone.

“I’ll speak with him tomorrow. At work.”

Narcissa smiled, “Wonderful, dearest, I’ll leave you to it then.” She kissed his cheek and stood to leave. “Shall I write to him?”

“No, thank you, I believe you’ve done enough.”

“Very well.” She smiled at him. “Best of luck, darling.”

\--------

Going back to work was nerve-wracking. He glamoured himself to avoid the reporters again waiting in the atrium. A few questions with the right people and he learned Potter had taken a personal day for the first time in over a year. It would make work less awkward, but he felt guilty knowing he was the reason why.

He sat morosely nibbling a sandwich in the cafeteria with Jemma when Weasley came by.

“Hey Draco! We missed you this weekend,” Weasley said with a pat on the back as he sat down.

“Yes, sorry about that. I was caught up at work and I missed the portkey.” A fresh wave of guilt hit Draco.

“Harry said you were finishing up the inventory. Is that why - ” He cleared his throat and looked around before asking quietly, “- is everything okay?”

“What?”

“Harry. He took a personal day. Is he feeling all right? He shut down his floo and our owl returned with the letter still on her leg. Hermione tried to apparate but that’s warded too. So what gives?”

“Oh, well, we had a fight.” Draco tossed his sandwich on the table. He was too queasy to eat. He vanished all his trash. Jemma pat him on the hand and bid them goodbye. She’d already heard the story twice.

“Oh. That’s - er, I’m sorry, mate.” Weasley cleared his throat and said carefully, “He must have been upset. He doesn’t usually close himself off like this.”

Draco shrugged. “Maybe he’s worried about what I’ll say to the press about it. I know he hates when they write about him.”

“Well, there’s the non-disclosure so you can’t say much, right?”

“What non-disclosure?”

“Enchanted non-disclosure statement. Harry makes everyone sign them before the first date. Keeps mouths shut so his personal life is out of the press as much as he can manage.”

Suddenly the bland remarks from the people he dated made more sense. Did they know Potter said fuck? That he wanked against his bedroom window? Did Potter leave them aroused and confused too?

Draco shook his head. “I didn’t sign anything. Maybe he forgot?” Or maybe he didn’t think it necessary. It wasn’t a real relationship after all. 

“Er, no. He most definitely did not forget. I’ve seen him so shitfaced he can hardly remember his name and he still pulls out the parchment and pen before anyone gets so much as a peck on the cheek. He keeps several on him, tucked into his wand holster just in case.”

Draco suddenly felt wobbly and sick. There was too much he had misunderstood, too much he didn’t know. “I think… I have to... I need to talk to him.”

Weasley nodded, giving a small smile. “I hope you work it out. He really likes you, you know.”

“Yes. I - I think I see that now.”

\--------

Draco hurried through the day’s brewing, saving most of it for the next day, and conned Jemma into finishing his paperwork. As evening fell, he apparated near Potter’s flat and walked the last block. There was the usual crowd gathered outside the building. Did these people really wait here all day for Potter to come out? No wonder he was so pissed about the press.

A wide smile on his face, Draco wandered up to the assembled crowd. “Well isn’t this something? How long have you been waiting here?”

A short witch with blinding turquoise robes smiled back, “Oh, about four hours now. Are you here for a date? Can we get a photo of you two perhaps?”

Four hours? Hopefully the shock didn’t show on Draco’s face. What a waste of a day! “Does Potter use the door to his flat often? I’ve only ever seen him apparate or floo.”

“Probably twice a week,” she responded.

Draco looked incredulously at the eight or ten witches and wizards looking at him with a mix of curiosity and excitement. Two of them snapped pictures of him for no reason Draco could discern. Sure, they thought he was dating Potter, but still. How random.

“You have three minutes to vacate the premises entirely. Anyone left will be hearing from my solicitor.”

A slender wizard with a camera laughed, “We’re allowed to gather peaceably on the pavement. You can’t make us leave!”

Draco pushed his sleeves to his elbows, exposing his Dark Mark. It had faded to nearly nothing, like it did the first time Voldemort died, but it was visible enough. Then he slid his wand slowly from his hip holster. “Oh, can’t I?” he asked with a wicked smile.

Immediately most of them left with scared backward glances. Probably fans with no stake in the game. The slender wizard, another witch with a camera, and an older wizard not bothering to hide his grin remained behind.

The slender wizard lifted his chin before repeating, “We’re allowed to be here!”

“I’m sure you’re _allowed_ to be here, but do you really want to be?” Draco twirled his wand in his fingers. “I mean, I’m _allowed_ to cast defensive spells and if one should accidentally hit you, I would not be held accountable. Would you want to stick around to risk that?”

The witch next to him pleaded, “I just need one picture for _Ciao_ and then I swear I’ll go. You could get him to come out here, couldn’t you Mr Malfoy?”

Draco turned to the witch from yet another gossip rag. “Why would I do that Ms - ?”

“Jenkins. Eloise Jenkins,” she said with a hesitant smile.

“Ms Jenkins,” Draco said calmly. “Scurry the fuck off and if I see you here again, I will set fire to your shoes.”

Her smile dropped and she indeed scurried off. Draco turned to the two wizards. “Well?” he asked.

The slender wizard trembled and said with wobbly confidence, “You can’t threaten me! I know my rights!”

“I can do anything I want. I am fucking the Saviour of the entire Wizarding World.” Draco smiled and raised his wand. A few deep green sparks burst from the tip. The wizard clutched his camera and disapparated.

“That was bloody brilliant!” the older wizard said with a wheezy laugh. “I cannot wait to write this up! Excellent work Malfoy! Just what he needed!” With another wheezy laugh, the old man thumped Draco on the back and also disapparated.

Draco stowed his wand and considered the small, identical windows running down building. He knew the top floor window was Potter’s. Was Potter watching? Wanking in his bedroom, looking down at Draco from his glamoured window? He considered putting on a show for Potter but there were too many neighbors to worry about.

Instead he entered the building and took the lift to the top floor. He knocked on the door and waited anxiously. The door opened a tiny crack and Potter peered out.

“Just because they’re gone for now doesn’t mean I’m letting you in.”

“You owe me. At the very least an explanation.” Draco crossed his arms defensively. “Although I wouldn’t turn down a blow job too.”

“I don’t owe you anything!”

“Bullshit!” Draco shoved the door, knocking a surprised Potter back enough he could get in the flat. “What the hell was that yesterday?”

Potter scowled at the floor. “I got angry. I’m sorry - “ He cut off and continued to glare at the floor.

“That’s it? You got angry?” Draco wanted to throw something against the wall. He settled for tugging at the hair on his head. “That was the hottest fucking thing ever, and all you can say is you were angry? I don’t understand what is going on! Stop toying with me and fill in the fucking gaps!”

Potter sighed and inclined his head toward the kitchen. Draco sat at the table while Potter summoned them a bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses.

“I thought you hated firewhiskey.” 

“I lied.” Potter tossed back his shot and poured himself a second one.

They sat in silence for a while. The tension made Draco tap his fingers against his glass. He gripped it tight, waiting for Potter to gather his thoughts.

Finally Potter sighed with a shake of his head. “Look, I like you, all right? And I thought if you would just get to know me beyond what the papers write... But it didn’t work out.”

“I didn’t know. You should have - “

“Don’t. Don’t even lie to me about what I should have done. I tried. I’ve been trying to get your attention for ages and you just - you just won’t. You are so caught up in what you ‘know’ about me that you can’t see anything else.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, your mother tried to warn me. Said you were a workaholic and self-absorbed. I didn’t realize she meant at the expense of all else.”

“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying one’s work!” Draco yelled defensively.

“No, there’s not. I work all the time too! That’s why I thought it would work between us. No one nagging me about the long hours because you’re keeping the same hours. But no, you couldn’t even spend the off hours with me. All I wanted was to eat, fuck, and sleep next to you but you refused. Every time!”

“I said I was sorry! I didn’t know!”

“I know, all right? The point is you didn’t try and find out. And I’m done. I’ve put in all I can here and I’m done.”

“You won’t even give me a second chance? Now that I know things can be different between us?”

Potter shook his head and finished his second shot of firewhiskey. Idly he wiped at his mouth while he considered Draco. 

Draco tried not to fidget under Potter’s gaze. “At least tell me why you didn’t make me sign the non-disclosure agreement.”

Potter’s eyes narrowed, “Who told you about that?”

“Weasley.”

“That nosy git!” Potter continued to frown. “I thought things would go differently with us. I thought we could make something real and I didn’t want to start with any legal documents that looked like I didn't trust you.”

“You trusted me not to run to the papers with my story of your filthy mouth and crazy sexcapades?”

“Yeah well, wild playboy like you, I figured even if you couldn’t tell the truth, you’d just make up some shite and they’d believe it because it’s you.”

Draco smiled wickedly. “Oh I could come up with some things.” Draco came around the table and pushed it away so he could straddle Potter’s lap. He brushed their lips together and rocked his hips against Potter’s. “Pretty please. One more chance?” he whispered.

With a groan, Potter kissed him hard, burying his hands in Draco’s hair, and running them down his back. “One more week. I’ll give you one week to come around and that’s it. So at least I can fuck you once.”

“More than once. Definitely more than once.” Draco stood and pulled Potter to his room, stripping them of clothes along the way.

Draco wanted to make it last, to draw out the euphoria for as long as possible but Potter’s cruel stunt the day before left him with a hair trigger. A few shallow thrusts into Potter’s willing mouth had him coming hard enough to make his toes curl. He slid down the wall and collapsed on the plush carpet.

Potter dragged Draco to the bed and proceeded to take him apart. Potter’s hands coasted over his body, pinching and scratching his skin. Potter’s mouth licked and sucked little bites all over his neck and chest. He finally turned Draco and pulled his hips up so he could press his fingers inside, prepping Draco for a thorough fucking.

On his hands and knees, Draco braced himself against the headboard, taking hold of the wrought iron. He moaned when Potter first breached him. Potter moved slowly until he was fully seated, and then he showed no mercy.

Potter was relentless with his thrusts. Draco’s prick started to seep, and begged for attention. He tried to take his cock in hand, but Potter whispered a spell that softened the wrought iron and sent the pieces curling around Draco’s wrists to hold them in place.

“Fuck, Potter. You are just full of surprises!”

“Shut that sexy mouth of yours and just take it!” Potter gripped his hips hard enough to bruise and slammed into Draco’s prostate. “Fuck Draco, you feel amazing.” His hand came around and started roughly stroking Draco in time to his thrusts. “So. Fucking. Good.” He punctuated each word with another hard thrust before coming with a loud groan and a bite on Draco’s shoulder. Potter squeezed Draco’s cock and he quickly followed with a low moan, spilling over Potter’s sheets.

Potter removed the restraints and turned Draco to kiss him, tangling their tongues with the last of his energy. He collapsed on Draco’s chest, heart racing and breath coming in short puffs. “I can do better next time. I’ve been holding off too long.”

“You will hear zero complaints from me. That was incredible,” Draco sighed.

“Good. But we’re not shagging again until we’ve had a proper date.”

They shifted in the bed, casting appropriate cleaning spells and settling under the covers. “I’m sorry I was a self-centered little shit.”

“I’ll forgive you but only because I want you to stop talking so I can go to sleep.” Potter pulled Draco’s arm over him as he turned so Draco could spoon up behind him. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

\--------

Draco was an earlier riser during the work week, and he was pleased to see Potter was too. Really, there was no way to be anything else in this room, with as much light as that huge window let in.

“The _Witch Weekly_ spread said you liked the morning light and the view of London. True or false?”

“Mostly true. I like the natural light and the way it feels so open. I don’t care about what I’m viewing.”

“But you’ve enjoyed wanking on the reporters and fans?”

“Yes.” Potter giggled and tackle-kissed Draco.

When they calmed a bit, Draco glanced up to the headboard. “Tying up your lovers. Something you do often?”

“No,” Potter said softly. He rolled onto his back to look at the ceiling. “Sometimes I get carried away.”

Draco rested his head on Potter’s chest. “Is it something you need, or just something you like?”

Potter tensed. “No one’s ever asked me that before.”

“See, sometimes I can be thoughtful.” Draco pinched Potter’s hip and nuzzled into his neck.

“I guess - sometimes I need it?” Potter pushed Draco away and shifted to sit cross-legged in the bed. “Sometimes I get angry. Like completely-lose-my-shit angry. And it’s - usually that’s why they leave.”

Draco tucked his hands behind his head, and gave a relaxed shrug. “Three cheers for a war that fucked us all. I can put up with all kinds of things. And defend myself in all kinds of ways. Feel free to tie me up whenever you like. If I don’t like it, I’ll stop you.”

Potter looked skeptical but he let it go. “Are you sure you want to give this a real try?”

“For sex like that, I’m willing to put up with you.”

Potter laughed and kissed him soundly for several minutes. Then he pulled away with his usual goofy grin. “C’mon, let’s get breakfast and I’ll tell you more things.”

\--------

They decided to walk to the Ministry for work that morning, so they could get a little more time to talk. Potter shared little tidbits of his life, and how the press was ridiculously oppressive.

“I said in some interview that I don’t like firewhiskey because it keeps people from sending me some at the pub. I need to get drinks with an umbrella so I can charm the umbrella to detect poison. For some reason, people think it’s perfectly acceptable to spike my drink with all sorts of shit.” 

“You’re ridiculous Next time, stick an umbrella in your firewhiskey. What about your engagement to Maria Velez?”

“Media invention. We were on a date when someone else got engaged and rumors started from there.”

“Do you really go commando to Ministry events?”

“Hardly. And if I did, I wouldn’t share that either. Ron made some kind of joke one time and they ran with it.”

“You should reconsider so I can more easily shag you in the cloakroom.” Draco laughed at Potter’s blush.

In the Ministry atrium, a handful of reports approached them in excitement. It was rare they were sighted together, despite the fake dating they were doing earlier. Now that they were starting something real, Draco wasn’t interested in entertaining the press. He would begin as he meant to go on. 

Draco didn’t pause in walking. He grabbed Potter by the elbow and dragged him to the lifts. “Keep your head down, don’t say anything,” Draco said quietly. He whispered a spell that sent a frigid wind spinning out from the two of them. It knocked several people back and cleared the way to the lift.

Inside, Draco pulled Potter close and kissed him. “That’s how you ignore the press.”

“That was brilliant. Usually I try and get here thirty minutes earlier so I have time to ease away.”

“Well no more of that. We’re having a lie-in tomorrow.”

\--------

Over the next few days, Draco spent every spare moment with Potter. Most days they ate lunch together, and they met up in the evenings for a quick dinner, shower, and then bed. They alternated flats each night, and true to his word, Potter allowed no sex of any kind. Draco was frustrated by the hot kisses and the roaming hands, but didn’t push his luck. Instead of getting angry, he planned a nice date for them on Friday. A real date that did not involve errands of any kind.

They began with a nice dinner on Diagon Alley. As they left the restaurant, Draco smiled for the waiting cameras, but didn’t pause as he pulled Potter along. Clear of any hangers-on, he apparated them to a quieter section of muggle London. They meandered along the river, talking and making up stories about the muggles they passed.

Draco smiled at Potter and took his hand. He pulled him close for a kiss but Potter pulled away. “Not here,” he said. “Let’s go to mine?” At Draco’s nod, Potter led them to a secluded nook and apparated them to his flat.

They landed with a bump against the wall of Potter’s sitting room but Draco didn’t care. He immediately started pulling off his clothes while at the same time touching every part of Potter he could reach. Their lips clashed together in a hungry, devouring sort of kiss. Draco pushed Potter onto the sofa and crawled on top of him. 

“Lube. We need lube,” Draco said. Not waiting for a response, Draco summoned the jar he’d stowed in the pocket of his jacket, now crumpled on the floor. He was surprised when another jar popped out of the side table and nearly hit him in the head. He raised an eyebrow at Potter.

“Just in case,” he said sheepishly.

“Next time,” Draco said as he tossed it aside. He opened his jar and offered it to Potter to smell. “I made this one, special for you.” A quick spell banished their clothes. Draco settled himself between Potter’s thighs and took a dollop of lube. “This’ll feel weird at first but just relax, all right?”

“I’ve done this before,” Potter said, his face screwed up in confusion. 

Draco refrained from rolling his eyes. He didn’t bother responding. Instead, he swept his slick fingers up Potter’s hard prick. 

“Oh good it’s not - “ he cut off with a sharp inhale. “It’s not cold. What is that?” He exhale heavily and relaxed into the sofa as Draco continued to stroke him slowly. He moaned softly. “Fuck, Draco…”

Draco grinned and moved his hand lower, swirling his hand around Potter’s bollocks, squeezing them gently. “It’s my own special recipe. It ghosts each stroke so you feel it three or four times before it fades. Like it?”

“It’s so intense. It’s like I feel you and then I feel you again. And again. Stop! You have to stop or I’m done for.” His back arched up into Draco’s hand, despite his protest. 

Draco slicked his fingers again, whispered a few spells to prep Potter, then slid his fingers inside. Potter groaned as Draco pressed up into his prostate, rubbing circles on it that would take a few moments to fade.

His other hand continued to stroke Potter’s cock until Potter was a writhing mess on the sofa. “Now, Draco. Please fuck me now!”

“Since you asked so nicely…” Draco slicked up his own cock, and sighed heavily at the sensation. Lining himself up, he slowly slid inside Potter’s willing body. Potter’s legs wrapped tight around his waist, pulling him in close.

Draco never got tired of the sensations this lubricant caused. He felt Potter’s muscles clenching around him but the echo of it layered upon itself making him feel the slide in and out over and over, even though he was barely moving. Potter could only manage a soft keening, his fingers scrabbling at Draco’s shoulders. When Draco started to stroke Potter’s prick again, Potter arched his back and screamed out his orgasm. The muscles of his arse clamped down around Draco, pulling his orgasm from him without mercy. He thrust hard two or three more times before collapsing on Potter to ride out the afterglow.

Potter whispered a spell to clean the come from between them. He shifted Draco to his side and sighed as he held him close. “That was fucking amazing! I thought I was going to pass out.”

“Mmm… thank you,” Draco mumbled. He was sleepy now and wished they’d made it to the bedroom after all. Potter’s cleaning spell left the lube on them and their tiny movements were a beautiful torture on his sensitive cock. Did he have enough in him for a second round?

“I want more. Again. But I’m so tired.” Potter yawned with a heavy exhale. “Maybe later, yeah? We’ll have lots of laters.”

Draco made a noncommittal sound, already drifting into contented sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

The next few weeks were marked with change. The strangest for Draco was making the switch from Potter to Harry. Although they’d been friends for years, Draco was accustomed to referring to him by his last name. It took reminder after reminder but eventually it became natural. It was worth it to see Harry light up every time he got it right.

Slowly, they ceased alternating flats at night and started spending more time at Harry’s flat. Harry looked adorably shy when he showed Draco the part of the wardrobe he’d cleared for Draco’s things. They giggled and traded kisses as Draco hung each robe and folded each shirt, right next to Harry’s.

Other things were not so easy. Harry started to pick Draco up at the lab every evening at six for dinner, instead of waiting for him at home. And Harry began cooking more and more, saying he loved having Draco around to cook for. This wasn’t so bad, as both of them preferred to stay home to avoid the press, but he wore Draco out asking for help.

Draco loved the nights when they curled up together on the sofa in the evenings, reading whatever was at hand. He laughed when Harry pulled out a _Quibbler_ one evening. “Why are you reading that?”

Harry smiled back, “It’s fun. Plus, they run a column on me every month.” He turned the magazine so Draco could see the headline, ‘Stalkers sent scurrying!’ “It’s Walter Wiggins. You probably don’t remember that day you scared everyone off. He was the last to go.”

“I remember. And why’s he special?”

“He writes about the other fans and reporters, instead of actually writing anything about me. It’s refreshing. And he’s funny.” They laughed together over the third person account of Draco’s intimidation tactics.

Occasionally Harry had to work late, with stake-outs, raids, or paperwork. Draco relished those days when he wouldn’t be dragged from his lab before he was ready. Especially now that he was coming along so well on his Wolfsbane Potion project. He and Leila had modified the brew enough to make it into a spongy form, like a marshmallow. It had the added benefit of being more shelf stable and easy to transport, making wide distribution possible.

Today’s task was to concentrate the liquid component further, to see if that changed its effectiveness and shelf life. The mixture in the cauldron was promising. Draco was helping Leila prep the silicone trays when Harry came in.

“Hey, Draco! Ready to go?” Harry said cheerily.

“Not quite,” Draco said absently as he set the tray aside for the next one. He dabbed the cubed tray with grapeseed oil. He looked up at Harry and smiled before returning to his work. “I’m working late tonight.”

“But it’s dinner time. Don’t you have to eat?”

A timer dinged and Draco moved to the cauldron. He decanted a portion and swirled his wand over it. “Hmm, I think another three minutes.” Leila set a timer and made a note on her clipboard.

“Draco. How much longer will you be?”

“Er,” he looked around at the mess spread out all over the work tables, “an hour or so? I don’t know.”

Harry opened his mouth to complain again but Draco cut him off. “I don’t have time for this right now. We’re at a sensitive point and I can’t just leave.”

Another timer dinged and Draco went to a second cauldron. “Perfect. Leila, this one is ready for the trays. We’ll get started while the other one steeps a little longer.” Together they carefully portioned the thick mixture into the trays. Draco was thankful for the magic that could direct it into the tiny cubes without making a sticky mess over everything.

He didn’t even notice when Harry left.

\--------

It was nearly two hours later when he stumbled, exhausted, through Harry’s floo. Exhausted but elated. Both batches of Wolfsbane turned out as expected. During the next full moon they would be able to run two separate trials. With a sigh, Draco shed his work robes and changed into comfortable pyjama bottoms. 

“Harry? Where are you?” He did a quick search of the flat but only found a note on the dining room table.

_I’ll be back later. - H_

“Well of course you’ll be back later. You can’t come home earlier, now can you?” Draco mumbled to himself. He poked around the kitchen but didn’t find any leftovers from Harry’s dinner. Too tired to make something, he stuffed a bit of cheese between two hefty slices of bread, grabbed a beer, and settled in a comfortable chair on the balcony. 

He wondered where Harry had gone. Draco could have used a night out after the long day he’d had. That, or a hard fucking. He grinned, thinking of Harry tying him to the bed again. Despite Draco’s encouragement, Harry was reluctant to initiate such play again.

With a sigh, he brushed the crumbs from his lap and drank the last of his beer. He briefly considered waiting up for Harry but their soft bed was calling his name. Turning off the lights, he collapsed into bed and was asleep in moments.

\--------

A flood of light ripped him from his sleep. With a loud groan, he curled up, shielding his eyes from the harsh assault. “Turn it off!” he moaned.

“Draco! What are you doing here?”

“I live here you twit. Turn it down!” He sighed when the lights dimmed. Sitting up, he saw Harry standing arms akimbo at the end of the bed. His wild hair was even messier than usual, and his clothes were damp from sweat. “What time is it?”

“Around one? I didn’t expect you to be here.” Eyes on the floor, Harry stripped out of his clothes and rummaged for a clean t-shirt and pyjama bottoms.

“Where else would I be? Where were you?”

“I went out.”

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes, I gathered that. Out where?”

“I went to a club. With Seamus and Dean.” Still without looking at Draco, Harry crossed to the bathroom. Draco could hear the water running.

“You went dancing?” he called out, “Without me?”

Draco waited while Harry rinsed and spit his toothpaste. Hesitantly, Harry said, “Well mostly I just drank a bit, but yeah. I did.”

Angrily Draco crossed to the doorway of the bathroom, watching Harry complete his bedtime routine. “Why didn’t you wait for me? I’ve been after you to go dancing with me - “

“Yeah, well, you were working.”

“Excuse me?” Draco crossed his arms over his chest.

Harry’s angry eyes met his. “You were working. So I left without you.”

“What is your problem?”

“Nothing! It’s just - you work a lot! And I thought - I guess I thought you would work less now that you have me.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? The whole reason we started dating was so that we could be with someone that wouldn’t complain about the hours we keep. Do you hear me complaining when you’re off chasing some drunken wastrel down Knockturn Alley at nine o’clock at night?”

“That’s - that’s differen!”

“How? How is that different? Because it’s you? I can’t be the only one making compromises here, Harry!”

“What kind of compromises have you made? I’m the one waiting on you all the time!”

“Seriously? All that leaving work early for you? Chopping your fucking vegetables and stirring your sauces even though I spent the whole day hunched over a cauldron? Staying in with you night after night because you are only interested in the one pub night a week? I've conformed my whole fucking day to your demands! But you know what? Fuck you! If you can’t even see it - “ Draco shook his head and grabbed his wand from the bedside table. “I'm going back to my flat. Enjoy your night alone!”

“Draco, wait - “

Too late, Draco had already apparated back to his flat. Immediately he shifted the wards to prevent Harry from following him. He looked around the home he hadn’t been to in weeks. The air was stale and his own possessions seemed foreign to him. Angrily he threw a vase at the wall, just to hear it shatter. Then he sighed and repaired it.

Fuck Harry! Draco didn’t need him anyway. Pacing his flat, Draco decided what he needed was a night out. It was early yet. Early enough to shake off his sleep entirely and have a little fun. Most of his clothes were at Harry’s flat so he transfigured his pyjamas into tight denims. He added a thin leather collar and a bit of eyeliner, and left off a shirt entirely.

Moments later, he heard Harry pounding on his door, begging to be let in. Draco stuck his tongue out at the door and apparated to the _Magician’s Wand_.

\--------

Draco tried to keep quiet as he stumbled out of the floo, but he couldn’t stop the giggling when he tripped over the coffee table. “Shh!” he whispered to it. “Harry’s gonna hear you and be pissed!” He giggled again.

A light in the hall flicked on.

“Have a good time?” Harry asked, in a stern voice that went straight to Draco’s cock.

Fuck yes, they would be having fun tonight.

“Of course not.” Draco ran his hands down Harry’s chest but Harry shoved his hands away. “I missed you.”

“Did you? Hard to tell with you running away like that.”

“I was upset. But I missed you and I came back. That has to count for something, right?” Draco tried to pull Harry in for a kiss but Harry was having none of it.

“Sure, come back dressed like that, smelling like every bastard that rubbed up against you. What the fuck is this?” he asked, pointing at Draco’s stomach.

Draco looked down, slightly confused. “Someone spilled something on me. I stopped him from licking it off, though.”

“Well good thing it didn’t get all over your trousers, you might have stripped them off and come home in your pants.”

Draco giggled and tried to unfasten said trousers. “Oh no, I’m not wearing any pants.” He tried to wink but his eyes weren’t working right.

“You nasty little slut!” Harry dragged Draco to their room and threw him on the bed. A flick of his wand and Draco was naked on the soft duvet. “Here I am worried about you, and you’re prancing about half naked for anyone to see!”

Draco moaned as Harry flipped him over onto his belly. He knew Harry was angry enough to forgo any preparation entirely so he wandlessly cast the spells to clean and lubricate himself. And just in time too. With barely a warning, Harry slid inside him, while at the same time whispering the words that would send the wrought iron curling around his wrists.

Perfect. So fucking perfect.

Harry set a harsh pace, thrusting hard and deep inside Draco. He gripped the iron rails of the headboard and moaned loudly, arching his back into the thrusts. Why couldn’t Harry be like this more often? It was too rare that Harry reached the point where his hands bruised Draco’s hips, his fingernails scratching down his back. Just a bit more… “Oh fuck, Harry! Now, please, now!” 

His orgasm came in a tidal wave of heat as Harry wanked him hard and fast. Draco’s head sank down into the pillows as Harry gave a deep, long groan of his own. He collapsed on Draco’s back for only a moment or two before releasing the ties on his wrists.

Draco curled into Harry and mumbled contentedly. Harry cleaned them up with a soft cleaning charm. He stroked down Draco’s back, and brushed the hair from his face. He scattered soft kisses along Draco’s cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he whispered softly.

But Draco didn’t hear. He was already asleep.

\--------

Draco‘s limbs felt heavy with sleep the next morning, but he stretched each muscle awake and rolled himself into Harry’s spot on the bed. He felt a little guilty for their fight yesterday and the way he’d fled the scene. But going out had been good for him, and the hard fucking he got when he returned helped him shed the stress he’d been carrying.

He hadn’t realized how overwhelmed he’d gotten with Harry. It had crept up slowly, without either of them noticing. He liked Harry, maybe even loved him at this point, and didn’t really want to end things. But if they were going to continue, Harry was going to have to loosen his hold on Draco. He just hoped Harry would hear him out, and not hold a grudge about Draco’s flight. 

The door creaked open and Harry poked his head in. “Oh good, you’re awake. I - I made breakfast.” A tray followed Harry into the room, laden with tea, eggs, toast, and jam. And, thank all the gods, a hangover potion. 

“Oh!” Draco said, sitting up in the bed. “What a nice surprise. Thank you,” he said with a smile. Good, things were looking up this morning.

“And, I wanted to apologize. You know, for last night. I’m - I’m so sorry, Draco. I shouldn’t have - I - I didn’t hurt you, did I? If you - If you want to leave, I understand.”

Draco set his toast down, confused. “I don’t want to leave. I came back. I just needed a little space. To think and all. And I know I looked rather trashy but it was all innocent. I just needed to let off a little steam. But I don’t want us to be over.”

Harry exhaled the breath he’d been holding. “Good, yeah, me neither. I - I won’t do it again. Or, well, I’ll try not to. I mean, I can’t promise not to because sometimes I - “

“What are you talking about? I’m the one that left.”

“About tying you up, you know. And - and basically assaulting you.”

Draco laughed. “That? That was fucking amazing. I’ve told you before I don’t care. I like it. And if I didn’t, I’d let you know.”

Harry’s eyes dropped to the breakfast tray. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. Sometimes I…”

“Hey,” Draco lifted Harry’s chin. “We’ve had this conversation before and I meant it. You won’t hurt me. I’ll be fine.” Draco set the tray aside and pulled Harry over him. He gave him a few soft kisses then rolled them to their sides so he could see and touch better. 

Harry’s hands were hesitant on Draco’s skin. He skimmed over a few bruises on Draco’s hip, and traced a few red lines down Draco’s back. “I could hurt you. So much worse than this,” he said softly.

“Harry.” Draco stilled Harry’s movements. “Did someone get hurt? Before?”

Harry closed his eyes for a moment. Slowly he nodded.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Draco wrapped his arms around Harry. “Do you want to tell me?”

A few moments passed while Draco simply held Harry. “It was - I didn’t know. That he didn’t like that sort of thing. He had a panic attack but I was too far gone to notice.” He took hold of Draco’s hand. “I wasn’t lying about losing my temper. It can be dangerous.”

“And I told you I can take care of myself. If it gets to be too much, I can stop you. I promise I can take care of myself.” 

Draco ran his hands through Harry’s hair, and kissed him softly. When Harry started to respond with rocking hips and a light tug of Draco’s hair, Draco rolled them so Harry covered him. He brought one knee up to rest against Harry’s hip and moaned in appreciation.

Then without warning, Draco cast a body bind spell at Harry.

He rolled Harry’s stiff body to the bed and sat up to retrieve his breakfast tray. As he nibbled his toast, he said, “Maybe you don’t know, but Voldemort snapped my father’s wand. After that, he was terrified something similar would happen to me or my mother. He made us both practice wandless magic.” 

Draco took a few bites of egg and sipped at his juice. He smiled down at Harry, and brushed his hair from his face. “Good thing, too, because by war’s end, none of us had a wand. So you see? I can take care of myself? _Finite_ ”

Harry groaned as the body bind ended. “You lunatic! Why didn’t you just say so?”

“I tried but you didn’t listen. Feel better now?”

“That’s… impressive,” Harry said as he sat next to Draco.

“Thank you. Anyway, I wasn’t lying. I like it and think we should instill a ‘Tie-Me-Up Tuesday’ into our week.”

“We’re not doing that!”

“Challenge accepted!” Draco smiled at Harry's laugh, but then took his hands for a more serious discussion. “There's more we need to talk about.”

“I know. What you said - about all the things you do for me. I didn't realize you were feeling so smothered.”

“Yes, well, I don't think I did either until it came up. I love you. And I'm happy with you. But you have to let me be me sometimes. I love my job and sometimes I can't be here when you want, just like sometimes you can't be here when I want.”

He paused for that to sink in. Harry swallowed and nodded. 

Draco continued. “I love our evenings here at home. But sometimes, I need to go out. You don't have to go with me, but you have to let me go. Just every now and again. Can you do that?”

“I can try.”

\--------

It took a few weeks for Harry to finally give in to 'Tie-Me-Up Tuesday.’ Arriving home from work to his naked boyfriend already bound to the bed did wonders for convincing him. And Harry couldn’t deny that it helped his stress level immensely.

This was quickly followed by ‘Work-late Wednesday’ when Harry made no comments about how late Draco came home. Sometimes it was on time for dinner, other times it was just in time to fall into bed. But at least Draco came home to him. 

Although neither of them could think of a fun name for it, Thursdays became the night they cooked dinner together. Draco danced around the kitchen, occasionally wearing nothing but an apron, and seduced Harry while chopping vegetables and stirring sauces. 

And every other Saturday night they spent at the club, dancing the night away. Harry usually just watched Draco, but it worked for them. Draco loved the jealous gleam in Harry's eye, and the possessive way he held him close as they left. He loved most rubbing it in everyone's face that Harry was his to take home. 

“You're mine, you know.”

“All yours, love,” Harry gasped as Draco worked open his flies while kissing along his neck. 

Draco was thankful all over again for the lovely plush carpet as he sank to his knees, a wicked gleam in his eye. 

“All mine.”


End file.
